


The Boy Who Grew, the Man Who Changed

by morrezela



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Jack Morrison is about to become the Strike-Commander of Overwatch. That means leaving somebody he loves behind.





	The Boy Who Grew, the Man Who Changed

**Author's Note:**

> Because what's a big lore reveal without a bunch of angst?

It looked like a nice dinner, all told. There’s a pot roast on the table. Fresh rolls straight from the oven. Mashed potatoes with gravy. A side dish of green beans and carrots sautéed together. And a bottle of wine already opened and breathing. 

If Jack knew anything, he knew there was also an apple pie in the oven. It used to be his favorite. Used to be. 

Vincent’s apartment was on the small side, but so were all the other ones these days. Omnics had destroyed his old building, taking his apartment and half his belonging with it. 

“You look lost in thought,” Vincent remarked as he hustled back into the dining room from the kitchen. 

“Just enjoying the view,” Jack lied with a wink. It came out convincing. A lot of things did. He used to be a shit liar, but it was easy. 

“Well, it’s not my best,” Vincent deferred as he plopped into his chair. “But thanks for the compliment anyway.”

Jack smiled back at him with a smile that had too many teeth, but he doubted Vincent noticed in the candle light. That was another thing. Candle light used to be romantic. Now it just reminded him of too many days slogging through towns where there was no electricity anymore. Reinhardt’s cheerful bellows the only music to drown out the never-ending sound of their marching. 

He didn’t miss it. Not really. It had just been a simpler time no matter what Gabe said about it. Fight and keep on fighting. Jack had always known they were going to win. Nobody else had that faith, but nobody else had needed to either. He’d been determined to be enough. 

“So, when’s the big day?” Vincent asked, breaking Jack out of his reverie. 

“Pardon?” Jack asked. 

“The big day,” Vincent reiterated. “And since when do you say ‘pardon’? You getting fancy on me, Johnny?” 

Since he’d trekked through France, and it seemed to be the only word he knew. Since he’d learned what good wine really was and just how bad the shit was that Vincent was pouring into his glass. But the swill being bad didn’t keep Jack from lifting it to his lips and drinking it. Fortifications were necessary, no matter how flimsy they were. The war had more than drilled that into his skull. 

“They’re making Overwatch into a permanent organization,” Jack said as he set Vincent’s cheap, Wal*Mart stemware back down on the table. “Clean-up efforts, medical and scientific research, peacekeeping, and such.” 

Vincent swore under his breath. “And Reyes half has you talked into joining, doesn’t he? That fucking bastard.” 

“Vin…”

“No!” Vincent interrupted. “You promised, Johnny. You said you’d be done.”

He had a point. Those words had been said. But they’d been said a lifetime ago. Back when Jack went by John and everyone in town thought he was the one dragging Vincent down with his hick ways. A pretty face covering for restless youth and no thought for the future. What a difference a war made. 

“I know I said that,” Jack admitted. “But I think I could really do some good here. It won’t be like before.”

“I’m sure,” Vincent sneered. “Just like I’m sure fucking Reyes has nothing to do with your decision.”

“Could you not talk about Gabe like that? He’s got nothing to do with this,” Jack said. 

“Fuck that,” Vincent spat. “I’ll say what I want about that fucking prick. I held my tongue when you joined up. I held my tongue when they did whatever the fuck it was that they did to you in that program.”

 

“I told you it’s just training,” Jack spat back before Vincent could continue. 

“Bullshit,” Vincent hissed. “I’m not stupid, John. I’m not.”

Jack sighed and gave in to the urge to rub his forehead. “They’re offering me the command position,” he said as he pulled his hand away. “Strike-Commander of Overwatch. It’s a big opportunity. Probably the best I’ll ever get. I’d be an idiot to turn that down.”

“Maybe it isn’t so great an opportunity if Reyes already turned it down,” Vincent countered. 

“He didn’t,” Jack said. “They’re offering it to me first.”

“Why?” was all Vincent said, but there was more suspicion in his voice than Jack could bear. 

But he had to bear it. That was his responsibility and his duty. “I can’t tell you that,” he replied. 

“You can’t tell me that?” Vincent asked. “You can’t tell me that?!”

Jack stared mutely at him in response. What could he say? That holding together a group of people who felt hopeless had been a monumental task? That over time, the fact that Jack was the one keeping the group together and keeping them going had started leaking into the reports his team had been filing? That even Gabe had started coming apart at the seams, and Jack had been the one leading behind the scenes?

That when he’d told Gabe the news, the only response from him had been relief?

No. Gabe was a good man. He was his best friend, and fuck anyone who thought they could pry that kind of information out of Jack. He’d rather die than have Gabe’s secrets exposed to the world. 

“I suppose Reyes didn’t take it well,” Vincent said more than asked. 

“Gabe’s fine,” Jack lied. 

“Right. You’d better watch yourself, Johnny. That bastard is going to stab you in the back one day. Probably with an actual, physical knife too.” 

“Will you not talk about my best friend like that?” Jack requested through gritted teeth.

“Your best friend? Funny, I thought that was me. When did I get dethroned?” Vincent poked. 

“Maybe when you refused to call me ‘Jack’ like I asked?” Jack suggested. 

Vincent glowered at the cooling roast on the table. “Maybe I don’t call you that because it’s not who you are. That’s somebody your Army buddies invented. Jack Morrison, savior of the world. Some big fucking hero. They don’t know you like I know you.”

Jack took his wine glass off the table and took another sip. “I suppose that’s one thing we agree on.”

Vincent either missed his meaning or chose to ignore it. “You need to come home,” he said instead. His voice gentle. Anyone else, and Jack would say it was an act. A ploy of some sort to get him to expose his weaknesses. 

But he knew Vincent cared. Really cared. He had a big heart and was kind enough to look past people’s rough edges. That’s why Jack loved him. That’s why Jack had to let him go. 

There were people cut out to be soldier’s husbands. There were people who were cut out to be celebrity’s husbands. Vincent was neither, and Jack needed him to be both. 

“I’m going home,” Jack replied softly.

If he had any hope of Vincent agreeing, it was dashed quickly. “No,” Vincent denied. “No. Look, John. That out there isn’t you. You’ve been caught up in it so long that you can’t see that. But if you just stay, you’ll remember. Come on, don’t be stupid.”

“Vin, listen. I’ve thought about this. I’m going to take the job. And what’s happening right now is inevitable,” Jack explained. 

“If your whole intention tonight was to break-up with me, you wouldn’t have let me make dinner. You wouldn’t do that to anyone,” Vincent argued. 

He was right about that in a way. Jack had come there hoping to see something to convince him that what he was doing was wrong. That if he held on to Vin just a little tighter, he wouldn’t just end up destroying him. That he could convince Vin to move to Switzerland with him to become the Strike-Commander’s husband. Or maybe that he could convince himself to give upon the dream that his whole world had been focused around for years. 

Turned out all he saw was that Vin’s soft heart was still clinging to Johnny. The boy that had signed up to defend his home. The man that had defended the world would destroy him. He’d rip apart that heart with bullet wounds. Better to break it in two than slowly destroy it entirely. 

Better to spare himself the pain as well. He couldn’t become Johnny again. He’d outgrown that shell. He’d found his purpose, and it wasn’t just based in Indiana anymore. 

“I love you,” Jack said carefully. “But I can’t do this to you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing that came out of my mouth. Don’t make decisions for me,” Vincent ordered. 

“I’m not. I’m making this decision for me,” Jack admitted. “I know who I am now. I know where my place is in the world. And I know that I will not torture you by trying to drag you alongside me.”

“Isn’t that still my choice?” Vincent countered. “You’re still making decisions for me.”

“No,” Jack replied easily. “It’s not. I’m sorry, Vin. I am. But you’re in love with a man who doesn’t exist anymore. And I can’t be him again.” 

“You think I don’t know that you’ve changed? Come on, give me more credit than that.”

“I think you don’t know that I’ve already accepted that position,” Jack said. “That there was never a chance of me turning it down. It’s who I am now. It’s what my life is. And it’s not your life.”

Vincent took a deep breath. “I didn’t know you could be so fucking cruel, Jack Morrison.”

Jack rose from the table. “You’re the only one left who didn’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The aircraft bay was noisy, but that didn’t keep Jack from trying to get some shut eye. Despite it being his own doing, he still had a lot of feeling to process over breaking up with Vincent. He’d spent hours doubting his own decision. But he figured it was normal to have doubts. 

He wasn’t surprised when a heavy weight thudded down on the bench next to him, and a similarly heavy body decided to use his shoulder as a rest. 

“How’d it go with lover boy?” Gabe asked above the din of warming up engines. 

“Broke up,” Jack informed him. 

“Shit. Really? I thought he loved you long time?” Gabe asked. 

“He did, does. I broke it off with him,” Jack admitted. “Couldn’t see us working out.”

“Huh,” Gabe said. 

“What?” Jack asked. 

“You giving up on somebody. Didn’t think that was a thing you did, Jackie.” 

Jack snorted. “I didn’t give up on him. I just… didn’t ask him for something I didn’t want him to give.”

“Fair enough,” Gabe replied. “You know I didn’t care for the little prick too much anyway.” 

“Yeah, I know. I recall a fight or fifteen over it.”

“Good. Means you’re not senile yet.”

“Was that a concern of yours?” Jack asked. 

“Well, you did miss something important,” Gabe said as his hand blurrily waved in front of Jack’s face.

“Is that a wedding ring?” Jack asked as he finally turned in Gabe’s direction. 

“We eloped over the weekend,” Gabe informed him with a big smile that didn’t quite chase away the haunted look that had been in his eyes for years. 

“Congratulations! Also, Ana is going to murder you for not telling her. And Reinhardt is probably going to cry,” Jack reminded him. 

“Bah,” Gabriel exclaimed. “You can just tell them I was overcome with love and passion or something.” 

“Me? Why do I have to do it? It’s your wedding.”

“Because you’re the big, fancy-pants leader now. Gotta keep peace in the ranks,” Gabe reasoned. 

“That’s not what that means. At all,” Jack clarified. 

“And because we’re foxhole buddies, and you don’t want to see Ana kill me?” Gabe suggested. 

“I suppose letting her kill you would be a bad wedding present,” Jack agreed. “But you break the news. I’ll just be nearby. And you have to get me a kouign-amann as thanks.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one giving me gifts?” Gabe asked. 

“I will once you actually give me a gift registry. This is payment for having to mediate over one of your dumb ideas,” Jack reasoned. “Besides, Vincent was making apple pie. You have to take pity on me.”

“Apple pie? You haven’t eaten that shit since Mickelson’s guts exploded all over your face in Brazil. Huh. Guess old Vinny must’ve really been out of the loop,” Gabe observed. 

“Yeah, well. Not really his fault,” Jack defended him. 

“Not really yours either,” Gabe pointed out. “Kind of hard to keep up when you’re not even sure which country you’re fighting in anymore.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Hopefully that won’t ever be an issue again.”

“Hopefully,” Gabe agreed.


End file.
